


sneachta

by dazing



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Drunk Sex, Ear Sex, Fluff, Hannibal is Not a Cannibal, M/M, Oral Sex, ROMANCE!!!, embarassed!will, just kidding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazing/pseuds/dazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>will and hannibal do the do after some drunkeness at a christmas party</p><p>Will braces the countertop, fingers drumming absently on the surface. "It's hard to avoid a subject when you've got your eyes on me like that."</p><p>"I find that I...cannot help it."</p><p>edit a year + later-glaring grammar errors, nice</p>
            </blockquote>





	sneachta

"Kiss him!" Beverly turns into a frat boy when she's drunk, and she's standing next to Zeller, arm wrapped around his shoulder and beer in her other raised hand.

The rest of the BAU is crowded round, anxious to see the jittery profiler and refined doctor together. Will feels like throwing up, preferably on Beverly's shoes, and Hannibal is smirking at him like the smug bastard he is. His eyes flicker up to the mistletoe placed above them. Will's sweaty, past the 'slight forehead sheen' point and straight to the 'Franklyn Froideveux' stage of perspiration. Jack pats his back, too roughly, sending Will stumbling a few steps, practically into Hannibal's arms.

Beverly has coaxed one-too-many budget cocktails into him at this point, and if he wasn't trained on whiskey with a strong alcohol tolerance, he'd be a goner. He meets Hannibal's lidded eyes, and he's actually calmed, of all things. He's looked into these eyes with his biggest burdens, his worst nightmares.

All around him, the FBI, the doctors they work with, they're just distractors while Hannibal's the constant. And he leans in. He's sure that there's applause, and Zeller is begrudgingly slipping Price the $20 he's owing him right about now, but Will can't think about them. It's Hannibal, his arms around him, and his lips, soft but controlling, contouring around his, that send him flying, for the first time in years, Will's mind is unburdened.

And because Hannibal is ever the poster boy of etiquette, he breaks the kiss, putting an arm around Will, smiling at the crowd good-naturedly. Alana laughs, says something to Hannibal in an almost-whisper, and he's smiling at her, eyes crinkled honestly. And that's when Will Graham falls in love with him.

After that, people are laughing the way they do when it's 11 and they're at a Christmas Party. Hannibal's hand never leaves Will's back, and people are looking at the pair with bloodshot eyes, and everyone's smiling, and Will can even smile back a bit.

When Hannibal leads Will to the open bar and asks what he wants, Will leans in and whispers that _he wants him_ , and Hannibal's face loses all pretense and the walk back to Hannibal's car is a blur, but they must've gotten their jackets on the way. When Will's seated in the passenger seat of the Bentley, he feels the way he does entering a crime scene, skin itching and heart pounding, and it's all kinds of fucked up and he thinks he likes it. Will's hand is on the console and Hannibal places his over top, whispering Lithuanian to him while Will's eyes are closed and he's thinking about Hannibal's lips around his cock and that he really wishes that Hannibal was one for car sex.

He's lost time by now, something that happens when his mind is scrambled and time runs short, he's in Hannibal's foyer, shirtless, and he's flush to the wall, helping Hannibal's suit jacket off and doing his best to find skin contact as soon as possible. Hannibal is painting Will's skin with his tongue, giving him goosebumps that follow his body downward.

He's trying for traction when he tugs Hannibal closer, when he ruts his hips, and Hannibal's smart enough to know that they're going to have to _do this_ soon or Will is going to go at it by himself. Their lips part and Hannibal's fingers grab under Will's chin, dragging his stubbled jaw up, so he's met with brown eyes again.

Their foreheads touch, and Hannibal breaths for a few beats, letting his eyes close. He parts, untying his tie and undoing his shirt one-handed, taking Will's hand with his other, walking him to his bedroom. It wasn't the Honeymoon Suite Will expected-no heart-shaped bed- but it was warm and he was drunk and horny the way you could only be at 11 after a Christmas Party.

Hannibal lifts Will and drops him onto his pillows, unzipping the smaller man with surgeon's fingers before pulling the khakis off and throwing them over his shoulder. He nuzzles Will's boxers, wanton in the way that makes Will dig his hands into Hannibal's hair, strands long enough that he could really _tug._ Hannibal responds, glowing eyes meeting Will's cool ones, keeping them there as he palms Will's cock out of his boxers.

He has a long tongue, really, and he licks a stripe up from the roots to the head, licking the tip with careful consideration. He hollows out his cheeks, cheekbones dangerous as they bob up and down, sucking Will all the way to the back of his throat and leaving him there. Will's feet drag across the sheets, body struggling as he's sucked down. Hannibal's palms on his thighs hold him in place strongly, still expertly massaging his cock with that tongue.

"Han-hanghh-" Will struggles out, hands searching for a hold wildly as he can feel himself about to burst. Hannibal releases his cock with an excruciating _pop,_ and Will's hair stands on end from being pulled from the edge so abruptly. Hannibal crawls up Will's body, strong chest hanging over his own as Hannibal's lips once again trail from his mouth, along his jawline, stopping at his ear, sucking at the skin behind it and Will bucks.

"Have you..." He purrs, his cock touching Will's stomach, "ever had a _man_ inside of you?" Will shakes his head from under him hurriedly, hands grabbing the skin of Hannibal's back wantonly. Hannibal chuckles warmly, a possessive growl that Will's heard before, around Alana or Freddie Lounds, Hannibal claiming his territory. He keeps one arm steady and reaches into the nightstand next to them, grabbing a bottle and a condom, meeting Will's eyes as he sets the foil between his teeth and pulls it open.

He's on his knees between Will's open legs, unbuckling his belt slowly, putting on a barely-there show for Will, a kind of dance. The satin briefs were anyone's guess, but Will really is surprised by Hannibal's cock as it slides out of the fabric slit perfectly. It's huge, uncut in all its glory, and be would've made a comment on it if he could formulate words.

He's naked in front of him, and Will's hands just roam, wanting to soak in the moment, before their buzz wears off and the moments gone. He goes to roll the condom on and Will finally gets his voice back, leaning on his forearms when he whispers "No," that he doesn't need it, he doesn't want it. Hannibal tilts his head to the side in thought, eyes closed and deciding, when he finally tugs the rubber off with reckless abandon and gets to work on Will, slicking the lubricant over his fingers and plunging them into Will slowly, and his skin is crawling, toes curling. Hannibal's smirking, the ends of his mouth curled as he makes a rhythm out of it, adding a third finger to Will because he's _that_ thick, needs all the room he can get to fit into Will's ass. He slides his fingers out and places his cock to rest near entry, and through the drunken haze he looks at Will, waits for him to nod before pushing in, sending Will sliding to the headboard, arms scrambling to Hannibal's shoulders as he ruts in again, sending blood pumping to Will's cock in fever.

He repositions his knees and grabs Will's legs to wrap flush around his torso as he pumps in, sending Will bobbing on his cock, shaking the bed frame loudly against the wall. It doesn't take long for his dick to brush against Will's prostate and he clenches, Hannibal's eyes closed and head careening towards the ceiling in pleasure. His hips are slamming into Will's thighs, creating a sinful noise echoing in the room, only matched by Hannibal's intake of breath and Will's moaning. He's speaking Lithuanian again, fast and harshly. Hannibal bucks into him and sets his arm by his shoulder again, leaning over him as he takes Will's dick in the opposite hand as he tries to match pace in his erratic motions. He pumps Will until he's squirming under him completely, his hands around Hannibal's neck in anchor. He comes over himself, streaks of cum setting long lines across his stomach that the doctor helps himself to before he comes in Will, white seed spilling out of him as Hannibal's cock goes in and out as Will lingers in post-orgasm, eyes lolling and pendulum swinging against closed eye lids. He's brought back as Hannibal cleans him up, eyes focused beyond intoxication as he makes sure Will's comfortable.

He wakes up with a headache and sits up with a start, remembering where he is and what happened the previous night slowly. His back hurts and the bed's empty, and he thinks that maybe Hannibal fled the country before having to go through a morning-after conversation with him. He finds his glasses on the nightstand, drawer neatly shut from where it had been slid open last night. He stands up, only a bit nauseous but very sore. Will doesn't find his boxers or undershirt, but folded at the bottom of the bed are pajama pants and one of Hannibal's own hyper-quality cotton shirts. The pants are a bit long on him and the shirt a tad loose, but he's comfortable as he walks out of the room and to the stairs, noticing the grande holiday decorations for the first time. There's a nearly 15 foot tree laden with golden ornaments by the stairs, numerous other high-end decorations about, the dining table he passes on his way into the kitchen dressed it's own snow-white finery. He sees Hannibal before he sees him, and he stops in place, heart beating too fast to approach immediately. He's casual enough, robe on, hair uncombed as he nurses a coffee and lets some pastry beside him cool off in its pan.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Will." Will's startled, forced to step out and he walks past Hannibal to stand on the other side of the island.

Hannibal meets his eyes in greeting as he's chopping herbs and garnishing the rich-smelling recipe.

"How'd you know I was there?" Hannibal chuckled, brushing the thyme off of his fingers. "I smelled you."

"Of course you did." Will leans over the island, trying to put a name to the mixture."...What do I smell like?"

Hannibal's eyes come up again, crinkled with a slight smile. "Me." He graciously turns away to fish an ingredient out of the fridge while Will's eyes bulge, face reddening as he gets the innuendo.

"Well..." He clears his throat loudly, "I'd imagine so."

"Could you stay for breakfast? I'd enjoy your company." Will mauls it over, weighing post-coital embarrassment and whatever heavenly creation Hannibal would surely serve him. He nods, pushing his glasses farther onto his nose. "Perfect," Hannibal grabs a mug from a cabinet and goes to his Italian press, the thing making Will antsy for Folgers. The strong stuff is handed to him anyway, and he lets it cool as steam wets his face. "Soufflé au fromage," Hannibal presents as he cut servings for the two of them, adding thick strips of pancetta that make Will feel a bit better about the gourmet dish.They sit in the dining room, Will feeling underdressed for the occasion with the lavish table decor. Will was right in assuming the meal would be good, the soufflé miles away from what he would eat in the morning (coffee and half of whatever Beverly was eating) but still amazing in flavor.

"Will, I must admit I have ulterior motives for asking you to stay for out breakfast." Will swallows, preparing himself for some psych eval or an easy let-down, some kind of offhanded rejection that he had figured he'd get last night. He looked to Hannibal, his hands in his lap.

"Would you do me the immense honor of spending Christmas with me?" Will's surprised, pleasantly. Right about now he'd be popping in Santa Claus is Coming To Town, throwing some wood in his fireplace and sharing Bella Crawford's fruitcake with his dogs.

"Will?"

"Hm? Oh-yeah. Yeah, Hannibal, I'd like that." Hannibal nods contently, finishing his meal in silence. Will brings his dishes to the kitchen, handing them to Hannibal as he scrubs them methodically.

"You're sweating more than usual."

Will laughs at the causal observation. "Thanks,"

Hannibal's sink is full of steaming water, his gloved hands carefully scrubbing his dishes until they're pristine, setting them on a drying rack on the counter.

"As your unconventional psychiatrist, Will, I should know when there's something on your mind."

Will braces the countertop, fingers drumming absently on the surface. "It's hard to avoid a subject when you've got your eyes on me like that."

"I find that I...cannot help it." There's a smile playing on his face, but it's mostly obscured by the locks of hair falling over his forehead. He stops the running water, sliding his gloves off clinically, putting them on the counter. "I apologize for not being there when you woke up this morning."

Will steps away, hands coming to his sides. "Jesus, Hannibal. That's not exactly what's occupying my mind." Hannibal walks to meet him, finger lifting his jaw again, a reflection of last night. Will is anxious again, closing his eyes to ground him in the moment. "It is 11:23. You're in Baltimore, Maryland. Your name is Will Graham."

Will sighed, drawing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "We had sex last night." Hannibal brings his hands together in front of him to rest at his stomach. "Do you regret this?"

It's a casual tone, but it's devoid of Hannibal's usual emotional detachment. He's looking at Will like he's damn Joan of Arc, and it makes him self-concious, makes him shuffle his feet and stare anywhere but Hannibal's face. "You know I don't. I'd never,"

"Will..." Hannibal expels a long breath, eyes taking Will in vertically, finally smiling when he met those eyes again. "I would do what I did to you last night...every day for the rest of my life if I had the choice."

And its Will that kisses him, that runs his fingers through his hair again, not in sexual frenzy but for an anchor, for proof that this moment is happening, that he's in Baltimore, Maryland, and that Hannibal Lecter is kissing him back.

 

 

 

 

That night, after a few glasses of wine, Will convinces Hannibal to play him some Christmas songs on the harpsichord, the older man scoffing when Will suggests printing out holiday sheet music. "You act as if this is the first drunken request for Jingle Bells."

Will laughs heartily, taking a seat next to Hannibal on the bench. He has stolen one of his thick, cashmere sweaters, and Hannibal has taken a secret liking to the sight of Will in his clothes, and pretends he doesn't notice. It had started snowing about an hour after dinner, Will running to the window excitedly and Hannibal coming up from behind him, snaking an arm around the endearing man. He rests his head on Will's shoulder, finding himself watching the man instead of the scene. And that's when he falls in love with Will Graham.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, I think Hannibal has always loved Will since he met him. I think it's taken Will to warm up to Lecter, and maybe Hanni hasn't admitted it to himself until now  
> follow me on my tumblr eatthehugh


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